


You Must Find Your Freedom...

by QClueingForLooksQ



Category: The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-12 09:04:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19128868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QClueingForLooksQ/pseuds/QClueingForLooksQ
Summary: For her people's freedom, it costs her own. At least, that's what she believes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after the scene in the Cathedral. In Notre Dame, they made a bargain. So he didn't go crazy searching for her, Esmeralda just nipped the problem in the bud. Now, she must deal with the consequences.

Her life in exchange for theirs. That's all that he had asked.

At first, she had assumed that somehow, her death was to cover theirs. Her death would set her people free. She wouldn't put it past the highly religious man. She was sure he loved some good imagery- Esmeralda playing the role of Jesus, atoning for her people's sins.

But that was not the case.

What the judge had meant was not a taking of her life...but an ownership of it. She would be his to do what he wanted with whether that be to scrub the many floors of his palace like another one of his servants or please him through his darkest desires. She had a feeling that the latter is what he craved from her the most. And yet...he surprised her.

When they had first arrived at his rather foreboding home, Frollo had actually offered his hand to her as a means of aiding her step out of his tall carriage. She refused it, obviously, and much to his dismay, but he was soon rewarded with her effectively tripping in surprise at how high she really was and landing in the mud below with a grunt. A wicked smirk crossed his lips in a gloating nature as he watched her pick up her broken pride off the ground and try to stand. But when he heard the sound of his guards laughing too, his smile vanished and he gave them a sharp and venomous look, immediately silencing them. He held them under his glare for a moment before he huffed and returned his attention to Esmeralda who was now standing, streaked with mud and holding herself as she shivered slightly from the cold.

Esmeralda swore it- his eyes had softened when he looked at her. Just for a second. Then they were back to that steely grey and he was barking orders to some maids (she assumed) who soon had her bustling into the palace and up the stairs. She was washed by them, very much against her will, and dried, fitted into a tight dress she was certainly too shapely for and pushed into a green-walled room. This room, she learned later, was to become hers.

There she sat upon the too soft bed with nothing more to do than to sit and watch the rain patter on the window. That or she could watch the fire that had been stirred dancing in the fireplace. Her ears perked to the sound of the lock in the door turning, and she stood quickly when the door opened. She shouldn't have been surprised to see the Minister step in.

"...have you been standing there all this time?" he had questioned her as if to break the ice. And indeed, that's what he seemed to be doing, for his expression was a bit uncertain, his eyes not quite looking at her, his hands behind his back, twiddling his thumbs. Esmeralda frowned at his casualty. Was he seriously acting as if he hadn't just taken her prisoner, acting as if they were...cousin's who hadn't seen each other for a while and were trying to find a way to get a conversation started?

"No," she frowned before she crossed her arms, sneering at the way his eyes darted to her pushed up chest before back to her face. "But I haven't been able to do much else but stand and contemplate my own existence," she raised a brow challengingly at him.

Frollo had looked around, eyeing the books on the shelves, the trinkets of jewelry and hair dressings lying on the vanity, the dresses hanging in the closet. He seemed to slowly understand that, not only could she not read to pass the time, but she was not one to adorn herself with such luxuries, for his head slowly began to nod and he looked back to her. "I apologize. I wasn't really expecting to have to entertain anyone tonight...especially a gypsy," he murmured. "This used to be my aunt's room when she came to visit. She left some of her things here as means of making travel easier, but...when she passed, these items were never claimed. I assumed perhaps you would find /some/thing to entertain yourself with but..."

The rest of the conversation? Rather boring, to be completely honest. Esmeralda couldn't remember much more than that except for the few orders and information she had been given; she couldn't leave her room without him or someone he appointed with her, breakfast was at 8:00, lunch at 12:00, dinner at 6:00, he worked every day except Saturday...it was...odd. He had been cordial, calm, his words and actions straight to the point. The only thing he had asked of her was not to leave, as aforementioned. And she certainly did not like that. But that was all.

When he had departed her chambers, he had simply left her with nothing more than a kiss to the top of her hand.

Nowadays, he had found her clothes that fit her better and that were less revealing. Her room had slowly been filled with activities she could enjoy like sewing and a piano she had started to learn. There was talk of beginning lessons in reading and writing with her, though he would apparently have to find time to fit that into his schedule. Everything had been so calm.

And so unnerving.

When they had bargained in that cathedral, he had been so obviously lustful after her. Had he not attempted to smell her hair? He was disgusting! And yet, she hadn't seen a trace of desire or want in his eyes since she got here, save for that quick glance down to her chest. But now she wore dresses that were almost up to her neck. ...what was he planning...?

Esmeralda started out of her thoughts hearing the doorknob turn, and she looked up from her seat at the window where she had been attempting to embroider her beloved Djali into a piece of fabric. The goat had long been lost to her, not having been allowed in the carriage upon her arrival. She wondered if she was ok...

"Ah, you're awake," came the now familiar, low tones of the judge as he slipped into the room.

A soft sigh left her and she set down her project boredly, turning to address him. "Yes. I am."

Her passive-aggressive response did not escape him, and he fought back a frown as he closed the door behind him. Instead, he forced a small smile and took a few steps into the room, hands clasped in front of him. "I have some good news." But his smile immediately fell as the insolent girl decided it was actually time for her to interrupt him.

"Nevermind that, Minister, I need to talk to you about something else," she huffed, completely ignoring the contents of what he had started to say as she put away her sewing and stood.

Frollo sighed tiredly and ran a hand over the back of his neck. "Claude..." he muttered in reiteration, a name he had wished her to call him but she still seemed to refuse.

"I am about to die cooped up in here," she continued on, deaf to his complaint, her arms crossing over her chest in pure annoyance. "There's nothing to do!"

"Oh, come now. You know that's not true," he started with a frown. "You have your sewing. And I thought you enjoyed the piano."

"Enjoyed it??" she scoffed. "I can barely play it! The only instrument I've _ever_  enjoyed playing is tambourine. And _that_  brings me to my next complaint," she raised her finger before beginning to pace as she ranted, Frollo watching her with bored, half-lidded eyes. "I want to dance again! It's not fun to dance for no one! Sure, I did it mainly for the money, but at least I actually _liked_ it!" She now began to clutch at her hair which she had adamantly refused to be put up in some bun, grasping at the wild curls which he so much adored. "And ugh- these _clothes!_ Even if I _wanted_ to dance in this God-forsaken room, I'd have to strip down nude to even be able to _move!"_ she exclaimed, her words causing his eyes to widen and a flush to overtake his pale cheeks. And yet she continued. "Especially these damn heels," she kicked the shoes she had long ago discarded on the floor to where they went spiraling under the curtain of her bed. "How can women even _walk_ in them? This life is constricting, unnecessary and- and I want my Djali back!" she finished with a whine, looking back to him with a fully distraught expression, eyebrows drawn and her red lips taut with a frown.

Claude blinked. "What...your goat?" He then scoffed and shook his head. "Esmeralda, the life you led is behind you now. You have to adapt to my way of living-"

"Do you have to wear heels?" she snapped. He paused, once more deciding to just let her vent as she began to prowl towards him. "Are you forced to give up doing what you love and given a sorry substitute? Has your freedom been stripped away to the point you can't leave your bloody room??" She was close enough now to where he could see her fighting back tears, and a soft sigh left him.

He lifted a pale hand up to her caramel colored cheek and gently wiped away a tear that had escaped. "Trust me, my dear. You do not wish to be back on the streets-"

"Yes I do!" she protested, wrenching her face away from his touch. His face darkened.

"Esmeralda-" he rumbled lowly, and her next words died on her tongue. Her mouth shut and she looked away, silently allowing him to continue. Watching this, his expression softened and he took her slowly into his arms with a sigh. She only allowed this for fear of what he may do to her if she pulled away, but his actions remained gentle as he pulled her body against him, a hand gently stroking her hair. "...your people do not see you as their queen anymore," he began to explain seeing as she seemed to have quieted. "They see you as a traitor for what you did for them, not as their savior. If you were to go out there, with me or alone...you would surely be killed."

She frowned at this before she shook her head and pulled away from him. "No...no that's not true. Clopin...he must have understood," she went to the window, looking out as if she could see her dear brother entertaining the young kids near the cathedral. Another sigh from the judge made her gaze return to him.

"...your brother was dethroned, Esmeralda." A rock hit the pit of her stomach. "He no longer has power over them. He lives his life just as you would if you returned to the streets; in fear and in hiding. Do you understand?" he walked over to her, grasping her hands so she would meet his eye line. "Because he stood up for you, they cast him out."

Esmeralda slowly looked down as his words sank in before she pulled her hands away and turned back towards the window, her arms soon hugging herself as she remained silent. "...Esmeralda..." Frollo started, yet hearing no response, he sighed and looked away. "...if we found your goat...would that make you just a little bit happier?" he looked back to her questioningly. No response. "Come now, my dear. You know I have never wished you this sadness. I'm only trying to make you comfortable the best I can." He came up behind her, her back visibly tensing as he brushed her hair from the back of her neck to the side and place a warmed hand on her shoulder where he gently began to massage the tight muscles there. To his relief and great pleasure, she relaxed, just slightly, into his touch. "I cannot give you the freedom you so desire...but I will try to give you your Djali. Do we have a deal? At least for now?" His hands, as now both of them were gently massaging her shoulders due to her positive reaction, ceased their movements as he watched for any response to his question at all. Eventually, her head bobbed with a few small nods, and he sighed in relief, moving his arms to encircle her waist from behind comfortably. "Lovely. Now, about that good news..."

She had allowed the massaging, almost...welcomed it. Her neck muscles had been aching for ages, and his fingers were surprisingly nimble and relaxing. But this new position was a step too far and she pushed his hands off her, turning and sitting down so he could no longer try and touch her without her seeing it coming and having the option to bite his finger off if she deemed it necessary. Obviously, he was not happy with her pulling away from him, but he seemed to accept her choice and placed his twitching hands behind his back, clasped tight to keep them from maybe doing something of their own accord. Once more, he forced a smile. "What is it?" she asked, sitting up straight with her chin in the air as if mimicking him whenever he did that. She was trying to be above him though she sat below him. His smile quirked into a genuine one. How adorable.

A happy hum left him and he rocked on his heels. "You are to be baptized in the morning."

Esmeralda paused and her haughty facade broke into one of shock. That was certainly the /last/ thing she expected to hear. "...excuse me?" she stuttered in confusion.

"Baptized," he repeated before he frowned a bit. "You do at least know what a baptism is, do you not?"

"N-no, I do. It's just-"

"Wonderful," he interrupted as the smile returned. "Of course, I don't expect you to know _exactly_ what you'll be doing so I will walk you through it," he began to pace, just as she had before him. "When you arrive at the church, you will be clothed in all white as a semblance of you being born again, washed in the forgiving waters by our Savior. You will, before the congregation, recant your heathen ways and-"

"Wait-" she stopped him, which he made a face at but paused his pacing to address her.

"Did I lose you somewhere?"

Esmeralda scoffed. "Oh yes. A long time ago," she crossed her arms at this. " _Why_ on Earth am I to be baptized? How is that good news for me?"

He furrowed his brows as if she had now confused him. "Why...you are to be baptized so you will be fit to marry me."

Her eyes widened in shock as if she had just been struck across the face. Then her expression darkened. "...what?" she growled.

"Well, I can't very well marry you if you are not a Christian," he informed her as if it were obvious. "The Lord tells us not to be unequally yolked. So you must join my faith before we join in holy matrimony."

"Are you insane??" she cried incredulously causing him to start a bit, blinking wide eyes at her. "Marry you?? That wasn't part of the deal!"

He frowned before he crossed his arms and raised a brow. "Then what else could I have meant when I asked for you in exchange for your people?"

"I don't know! At first, I thought you were going to kill me!" she exclaimed. "And then when _that_ didn't happen, I thought maybe you'd make me your slave or something but- not your wife!" She placed a hand over her forehead, eyes wide as she shook her head in disbelief. Then she paused. "...oh my God." She looked up to him accusingly. "The sewing, the piano, the conservative clothes- you weren't trying to make me feel comfortable. You were trying to train me to be the perfect hussy!" She stood angrily as Frollo groaned in annoyance.

"Esmeralda, that's not true-"

"Welllll, Mister Judge- Minister- whatever the Hell you are," she growled, jabbing her finger into his chest. "That's not going to work anymore. I refuse- _refuse_ to marry you. You cannot make me-"

His hand caught her wrist roughly, her eyes suddenly widening, and he pulled her close to him with no care for if he hurt her or not, his voice low and near her ear. "Esmeralda..." he growled, voice seeping with venom causing a tremor to run through her. "The deal was your life in exchange for theirs. I. OWN. You. And if I see fit that you are to be my wife, then you are to be my wife and that will be the end of it. Do I make myself clear?" Esmeralda swallowed silently and refused to respond despite the fear he had inspired in her. But a cry soon left her lips as he wrenched her wrist. "Do I make myself clear?" he barked.

"Yes, yes-!" she yelped, her body bending to his will so he wouldn't accidentally break her arm, but he soon released her and she fell to the floor, her hand immediately going to clasp her injured wrist.

"Good," he purred approvingly, watching her for a moment before his anger at her insolence died down and he knelt before. "I do not take pleasure in punishing you, my dear. I really don't," he rumbled to her and brushed some of her hair behind her ear. "But I will not tolerate such disobedience in this household, do you understand? I will put up with your rants and I will give you anything you desire as long as I know no harm will befall you because of it. But we had a deal, and you will uphold your end." Not seeing any signs of her about to fight him on this, not even the flaring of nostrils at some concealed anger, he nodded in approval and stood. "I don't think I need to really explain the rest of the ceremony. It's pretty much cut and dry. But, I suppose I can answer any questions you may have," he sighed, placing his hands behind his back.

She sat for a moment, not doing much of anything but staring at the floor. She was quiet for so long that, eventually, he just sighed sadly and turned away to leave the room. But he paused hearing her calling after him. "I do have...one question." He turned back to face her with a raised eyebrow before facing her fully, not catching the clever glint in her eyes.

"And what would that be?" he responded.

Esmeralda looked up to him, her brows furrowed. "In a baptism...the whole point is to dedicate your life to Jesus...correct?"

Frollo frowned at this but slowly nodded. "Yes..."

She now slowly stood to her feet, using only her left hand to help her since her right wrist still ached. "And you want me baptized so that God will, what...bless our marriage or something?"

He sighed at this, not liking where this was going. "Yes. And because God does not wish us to marry non-believers so that we are equally yolked, like I said before. Were you even listening?" he huffed.

Esmeralda didn't answer his question. She just smiled. "Then I won't mean it. You can take me to get baptized but I don't believe in your god. At least, the congregation won't know that. I'll denounce Him in front of everyone," she crossed her arms challengingly.

Frollo's hand tightened into fists at this. "You will most certainly not. I know you believe in God, you told me yourself the day you stood up for Quasimodo."

"I believe in justice," she snapped. "And I believe that, whatever god is out there, is forgiving and merciful. Like the one that the Archdeacon speaks of. Your god is merciless and hateful- his is kind and loving and accepts me and my people."

"Esmeralda..." he growled once more warningly.

"No!" she protested. "You can beat me if you wish, you can force me to marry you, but you will _not_  tell me what I believe in. And if you wish for this marriage to be "sanctified"," she sneered. "Then you will wait until I am good and ready."

Frollo sputtered in anger and annoyance at this, his hands flexing and clenching as he tried to find a way around her words, for she spoke the truth. "Well- how do I know you will even _try_ to be "good and ready" as you so eloquently put it?" he crossed his arms. "You do not wish to be my wife. You have made that perfectly clear. You could live out the rest of your days saying you are contemplating a conversion and never do, just to spite me."

She shrugged at this. "Doesn't matter. I know your requirements for me now. And I will never choose to fit them for you."

The Judge's face had reddened a bit at her utter defiance and he took a few slow steps towards her, her triumphant attitude faltering as she witnessed him approaching. She took a step back, but then he paused, and something seemed to click in his mind. He released his fists and closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath. Then he spoke. "...if I grant you...one day of freedom..." he opened his granite eyes to look back up to her. "Will you return to me...and try to understand my God?"

Esmeralda was...surprised, to say the least. She had fully expected him to make her live out the rest of her days in this bloody room, imploring her constantly and eventually just giving up and marrying her anyway so he could have her the way every man had wanted her. At least her insolence would have bought her time in her imagination. But now, here he was, handing her her freedom on a silver platter. Her expression neutralized quietly as she studied his own tired look, and she slowly lowered her arms from her chest. "...I will," she lied.

He visibly lost an inch in his tall stance as he let out a sigh, reluctant to let her go but glad he seemed to finally be getting his way. "Very well. I will see to it that tomorrow that my guards will accompany yo-"

"No guards-" she interjected quickly causing him to look at her in rekindling anger. Seeing this and knowing she needed to quickly extinguish it, she took a few swift, bare-footed steps towards him and took a hand in hers. "Please?" she begged him. Though he was obviously pleasantly surprised at her willing touch, it was clear he was not going to allow her her wish just yet, so she pushed on, making her eyes plead with him like a child's. "How can I feel free if I'm constantly watched?"

"You are always constantly watched," he muttered in annoyance, referencing to even when he first saw as she danced at the Feast of Fools. "You can't help but call attention to yourself-" he huffed and shook his head. "It's too dangerous..."

"Claude-" she finally said causing his eyes to shoot up to her in delighted shock at the usage of his Christian name. Her hands let go of his to rub slowly up his chest where she felt his heart picking up speed to hammer under her fingers. They continued to wrap around and behind his neck, one slipping into his hair teasingly after knocking off his chaperone. "It's just for a day. Please...?" she gave him her most innocent look, and as she watched him melt for her, she wondered why she didn't use this tactic sooner. Yet as his hands came to grasp her waist hesitantly, she was quickly reminded of the answer to that question. He was disgusting. Obviously...

He had watched her in unadulterated bafflement as she ran those delicious hands over his aching body. The way she had purred his name, how her tongue caressed each letter...it still rang so pleasantly in his ears. Soon enough, he broke down for her with a groan and closed his eyes, lowering his head slightly in defeat. "Alright. But _one_ day," he reiterated firmly, glancing back up to her. "From morning to night. Not through the night. Not from tonight till tomorrow. Just one day. Understood?"

Esmeralda smiled in genuine excitement, and to seal the deal, she thanked him gleefully and pressed a full kiss to his poor cheek. He immediately flushed at this and he gently pushed her away, his hands trembling a bit. "Do control yourself, woman. You do not want to be mistaken for a harlot," he snapped, but there was no venom in his words as he attempted to hide behind some of his hair that had fallen out of place due to her fondling. The woman laughed at this, the mocking behind it unknown to the minister as he tried to gather himself and his hat and head for the door. "I-I'll...I'll see you at dinner," he cleared his throat and gave her one last longing look before a sigh was heard and he closed the door.

Tomorrow, Esmeralda would be free.


	2. Chapter 2

Esmeralda was up bright and early that next morning, absolutely buzzed at the thought of finally getting a taste of that fresh air outside these walls. Well- the air was probably much worse out there than in here, but she refused to look at the Judge's quarters as anything but stuffy.

Secretly, the gypsy had gathered anything that she wished to keep in the pockets of her old clothes, which she now wore. The sash tinkled with her familiar bells and so did her ankles and wrists with the bracelets she had adorned them with. When Frollo came into her room that day, he was very critical of her outfit, especially when he noticed her bare feet. "Are you daft?" he huffed, crossing his arms as his eyes roamed about her figure, though it was hardly due to any desire he held for her. It was hard not to notice how her chest was now exposed to him but that was not what he was focusing on. "You stick out like a sore thumb in those drabs! You will instantly be recognized!" he protested before he shook his head and made his way towards her as if to disrobe him himself and get her something more decent to wear.

Esmeralda drew back from him, silently cheering in the feeling of being able to move quickly again. "Oh come now, I'd be more obvious if I wore the clothes you gave me. A gypsy in a noblewoman's dress?" she scoffed. "I'd be killed on the spot, no questions asked."

"I don't even know why I allowed you to keep those rags..." he huffed before letting out a long sigh in understanding at her point. "Well...at least wear a cloak over yourself. Keep your face hidden," he rumbled and actually unclasped the one from around his neck, for it had been raining and he wanted to be prepared. "Since you will be returning, you can borrow mine," he told her and waved it with a flourish about her shoulders, hooking it in front of the hollow of her slender neck and pulling the hood about her wild hair. Stepping back, he studied her and found she still look ravishing...especially wearing his clothes.

As soon as that thought entered his mind, he clenched a hand and dug his fingernails into his palms as a reminder and raised his chin poignantly. "And must you go without shoes? You could cut yourself out there," he warned causing her to scoff, pushing the hood off her head with distaste.

"I lived my whole life on the streets. I'll be fine," she muttered, forcing herself to be patient. If she were planning to return, she'd be trying to hurry this along. But since freedom was but a few minutes away, she supposed she could wait. Didn't want to look too eager anyway...

Frollo seemed doubtful at her words, assuming that perhaps her feet had gone soft over the months of not being used as they used to. But one look at his confident and capable bohemian left him sighing in defeat. "Alright, alright..." he raised his hands briefly in surrender. "I suppose you may go now."

Elated at this, she grinned and ran towards the door past him before she paused and looked back at the old judge who was staring at where she had been standing, obviously doubting himself. She procured an odd feeling as she watched him and, after a moment's hesitation, she walked back to his side and placed her hand on his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek to seal the deal. "Thank you..." she whispered against the shell of his ear, a shiver visibly running down his spine, before she was off again, her feet flying down the carpeted stairs and out the front door into freedom. Hopefully, that kiss would tide him over for today. Give him some hope that she would return.

Because she certainly didn't need the dogs after her.

It had indeed been raining when she first stepped foot outside. But as she traveled, the sky was quick to clear up, the dew on the grass the only reminder that sky had been grey moments before. It was as if the sun had come out solely to welcome her. With a smile at this thought, Esmeralda kept the hood off her head, not fearing who may or may not recognize her. She hadn't believed a word the judge had told her yesterday: Clopin had been dethroned, the Romani people saw her as a traitor... She could understand them finding her a coward. But not a traitor. Besides, how on Earth would Frollo know the gypsies view on Esmeralda? Those matters were only discussed in the Court of Miracles, and he had yet to find that location.

And so, for a few hours, Esmeralda felt alive once more. She found the old street corner she used to dance at and pulled out the tambourine that had been one of her hidden items in her sash. Discarding Frollo's robe knowing it would hinder her movements, she took a deep breath, watching the passerby as they went about their day. Some of them looked at her curiously, other's in wonder as they recognized her from before but didn't know where she had gone. A smile stretched her full lips, her hand raised the instrument...and she began to dance.

Oh how wonderful, how beautiful she felt once more as her feet knew the ground and leaped through the air. Pirouettes, sashays, every trick in the book she performed. She danced as if she would never be able to dance again. And indeed, she would have to find a new corner where the Judge wouldn't find her so easily. But her heart and soul were poured into this performance as she spun and swayed her hips and ran her hands up and down her body. A few coins were thrown her way into the judge's cloak, and she thanked the men with a flirtatious air-kiss their way. Oh, how alive she felt! If only she had her little Djali...

The guards let her alone as she danced, them being the sole group that knew of their master's love for the gypsy woman, and moved on their way reluctantly- for their bias against her people remained strong despite their orders. Seeing this, she ran to and danced around them mockingly, singing in her own language songs of freedom and merriment. She was free, and they could do not a thing about it.

When the sun was beginning to set, she stopped her jubilant celebration and began to gather up her money from the cloak, intending to leave the cloth there as she saw no real need for it. It would way her down and only remind her of her captivity, the Judge's scent of wine and smoke clinging to the material. The golden coins slipped into her leather pouch with a few satisfying tinks and another wave of sadness for her goat washed over her, for normally she would have helped her gather the coins as well. Shaking her head, she let out a sigh and picked up the tambourine before a cry rang out and she looked up in surprise.

"Esmeralda?" Her eyes landed on a familiar face, and she grinned broadly in utter joy.

"Pierre? Oh Pierre, how I've missed you," she groaned, rushing to the gypsy man not too far from her and wrapping her arms about him tightly. The man tensed under her touch, not reciprocating the embrace. Feeling this, she frowned lightly and craned her neck back to look at him. "Is something wrong?" she asked him worriedly, for his clenched jaw and uncertain eyes were not something she was used to seeing on the poet's face.

Slowly, she stepped back from him. "Pierre...what's wrong?" she reiterated, but a ball of ice formed in her stomach as he steadily produced a shiny dagger from a sling in his belt. Her eyes widened and she looked to him in confusion. "Pierre...-"

"...run."

The word was uttered in a short, low tone, and Esmeralda barely had time to think before she was grabbing at Frollo's cloak and rushing off into a nearby alleyway. Soon, she heard heavy footsteps in her pursuit, only spurring her on faster in fear. Why had he looked at her in such a way? Did he truly wish to harm her? And if so- why had he told her to run??

Esmeralda had been chased before in a very similar fashion, but she had never felt such terror as she did now. She was being chased by one of her own friends. And it seemed like it was with the intent to kill. The light of the sun was quickly sinking away, making it harder to see, but Esmeralda knew this city like the back of her hand. Not much could have changed...right?

And yet, to her utter despair, in only a minute or two, she was lost. She stopped at a crossroads, not knowing which would be the right route to take, but the incoming sound of her pursuer made her make a choice, skirting to her left. Soon, she was being chased through a slim alley that barely fit her without her turning to her side, and this gave her a bit of hope that perhaps it would slow the man down. Suddenly, she was pulled to the side with a cry that was quickly silenced with a hand covering her mouth. She struggled violently, about to bite her attacker's fingers when a voice she knew all too well stopped her. "Hush now-! It's me-!" came the harsh whisper, and Esmeralda stilled. Only a few moments later did she hear Pierre's footsteps go by, unable to see any physical proof from their hiding place behind the tarp-covered crates.

As the sound faded, the gloved hand slowly lowered from her mouth and she looked quickly to the person who had incidentally and possibly saved her life. "Clopin-" she whispered before she stopped herself and pulled away from her brother distrustingly. "Wait- Pierre wanted to kill me! How do I know you didn't want to do it yourself?" she hissed causing the masked man to give a heavy sigh and a familiar 'are you an idiot' look.

"Esmeralda, of course I do not want to kill you. And neither does Pierre."

A short, incredulous laugh left her at this. "Obviously he does! He chased after me with a damn dagger!"

"He still did not wish to kill you," Clopin continued quietly and Esmeralda frowned, settling down a bit as she felt some sort of explanation was to occur. He watched her for a moment before he took off his mask he always wore and rubbed over his sweaty, scarred face. "If he had truly wanted to kill you, you would be dead by now. He knows these streets even better than you do," he reminded her before he went silent for a moment, mulling over the thousands of thoughts in his head. He let out another defeated breath. "We have a new leader, Esmeralda." He looked up to her. "Francois Lupin. He managed to convince everyone that I without you was an imbalance of power. Somehow that led to him having the sole leadership position?" he closed his eyes and massaged them tiredly before looking to her again sadly. "There are many that do not find you a traitor, sister. But even they were swayed by the fact that you were given a lavish lifestyle in exchange for a little bit of lax in the courtroom."

"But I don't even _want_  that life!" she protested fervently.

"They don't know that," he calmly responded. He then looked away towards where Pierre had run off. "...we have been ordered to take you prisoner or kill you if we find you. If it is found that we saw you and didn't try to capture you, we would be hung for treason." He looked back at her. "He did not want to harm you, Esmeralda. But he put on quite a show, didn't he?" he smiled gently before it faded. "...I was the only one who completely refused to follow his orders. And so I was banished. Of course, I can't very well leave Paris. But, I too will be killed if found here." He took her hands in his and gave her a pleading look. "Esmeralda...I implore you. You must go back to the Palace. You are safe there."

"No!" she wrenched her hands away from him and stood. "Then Frollo will force me to marry him! I can't do that, Clopin!"

"I know it must be hard-" he started but she shook her head.

"No, I refuse. I will not give up my freedom! I'll talk to them. Explain to them that I escaped because I didn't _want_  to live like a- a stuck-up, prissy noblewoman-"

"Which would eventually lead to the judge most likely revoking his leniency towards our people and bring down his hammer of justice," he interrupted her and stood as well, looking down to her with a sad expression. "Is that what you would remind them of next? You hated your nice life so much that you fled leaving your people to deal with the consequences of the angry minister?"

Esmeralda gaped up at him before tears began to fill her eyes. She clenched her jaw defiantly at him and looked away, a drop escaping which she quickly brushed off her cheek. He was right. Why was he _always_  right?

Clopin watched his little sister with a pang in his heart, and he wrapped her in his arms once more, actually hugging her this time. "Please. Stay safe. You're all that I have left..."

Esmeralda knew this. Many times, they were all the other had. After what happened to their parents... He raised her. He was her father figure. And he always knew what was best for her despite her stubborn head. But before she could ruminate any longer on this, shouts were heard from down the alley causing both bohemians to shoot their heads towards the sound. Clopin's eyes widened and he quickly began pushing her in the opposite direction. "They've seen you. You must go now! Run as fast as you can back to the palace! Go now! Don't look back!" he urged her, and though she fought him, though she did not wish to leave her only friend to deal with her pursuers alone...she ran. She ran and she ran and she ran, pulling the cloak onto her and over her head as tears streaked down her face and Frollo's scent filled her nose. The shouts were getting further away, putting more and more distance between her and them. Clopin must be doing a good job...

The thought of him losing the battle rushed into her mind and she pushed it away, knowing that if she allowed her sobs to consume her she could run no longer. She ran purely on adrenaline until she finally felt the familiar cobblestone bridge under her feet and ran to the Palace's front doors, slamming against them as her lungs clawed for breath. Her hands grasped the handle of the door, but she hesitated and looked back. She had escaped. She knew that. But part of her wished to see her brother's sparkling eyes in one of the rose bushes, encouraging her. Letting her know he was safe...

Suddenly, the door gave way, and she stumbled into velvet robes which she clung to for balance. "You're late," a low, booming voice stated, clearly upset and full of warning, and she slowly looked up to the owner. The Judge stood there, a scowl etched into his sharp features. But seeing her tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes, his brows drew closer together. "Why do you cry, girl?"

Esmeralda looked up to him for a long moment before she let her head fall forward onto his chest in defeat. A hand took part of the cloth that he had lent her and raised it up for him to see.

"I needed to return your cloak."


	3. Chapter 3

It had been a few days after her return to his home. He had implored her many a time on what had happened on her little excursion, but she refused to enlighten him. Although, Frollo felt no need to threaten the information out of her. Whatever it was had upset her, and she did not seem as keen on starting an argument as often as she used to. In fact, she barely uttered a word as the days came and went, forlornly staring out her window as she sat on the little seat attached to it. Her silence was indeed the most infuriating of all, but also the most damning. This was the case because whenever he caught sight of that shattered expression of hers, her normally sparkling eyes (whether those be in anger or joy) now dulled- it broke his heart.

The day came that he could bear it no longer and he had a present brought into her on the sunny morning of the first of March. A knock sounded upon her door, something she had not grown accustomed to as the judge normally let himself in with no regards to her thoughts on it. Slowly, Esmeralda tore her gaze from watching a bird nursing some eggs under its belly that had made a nest in a nearby, overgrown bush. "Yes?"

"Esmeralda?" the familiar baritone came hesitantly through the door. "I assume you are decent? May I come in?"

She frowned at his entreaty, finding it quite out of character of him. But, turning her legs to face the door, she cocked her head curiously and replied with some suspicion, "...you may..."

The door opened in response and revealed the judge who stepped in with a rather mischevious look in his eye. A small smile sat upon his thin lips and his hands were placed behind his back as he bounced lightly on the tips of his toes. "I have a surprise for you," he admitted with a quirk of his brow, and Esmeralda was floored. What had gotten into the man? Normally so stoic and holier-than-thou, and now, he was practically bouncing back and forth like a puppy! But when he stepped aside, she soon found the source of his barely contained excitement, and she gasped. There behind him stood her beloved Djali being kept on a rope leash by one of Frollo's many servants.

The gypsy immediately stood and rushed over to the goat with a cry of happiness, wrapping her arms around it tightly as her belly ached with the kinship the animal brought her. Frollo watched this, amusement written across his features as well as a little bit of pride. That is until Esmeralda stopped cooing to the animal suddenly and sat back on her heels, her brows drawn tight. Her eyes studied the creature carefully and Claude's shoulders fell, knowing what was coming.

"This isn't Djali," Esmeralda muttered lowly and stood, disappointed but not surprised as she turned to head back to her mournful bench.

Frollo huffed in defeat and twiddled his thumbs behind his back. "What gave it away?"

"The earring is in the wrong ear," she sighed.

He frowned. "It wasn't the left one?"

She looked back at him from where she had curled up in the sunlight, still so radiant despite her cloudy expression. "No," she replied firmly before looking back to the bird. "Also...Djali was a _girl_."

Frollo made a face and looked to the very male billygoat. "...I thought you wouldn't notice."

The gypsy woman let out a single, barking laugh at this, throwing her head back a bit before shaking it incredulously. This man was impossible. The minister smiled a bit at her reaction, glad to hear something akin to joy leave those beautiful lips of hers. He took a step forward. "Esmeralda-" he stopped when she instantly looked to him, taken aback by her beauty once more. Her raven hair reflected the sun rays just enough to create a very life-like halo in her flyaways. Her eyes were sparkling, the shadows cast contouring each and every curve she had. She was so incredibly magnificent to behold...surely she deserved the world.

He cleared his throat as her expression became questioning, and he started again. "Esmeralda. I know that is not your goat but..." he sighed. "I could stand it no longer seeing you mope around here like a- well..." he stopped himself once more, thinking it best not to insult her at this moment and waved his hand off to dismiss it. "Nevermind. The point I'm trying to make is...I can't be around for you as much as I would like to, but you need the companionship. I couldn't find your goat, but I did my best." He brought his slender hands forward and folded them in front of his robes. "Will you not accept him?"

Esmeralda watched this man. This man that she so loathed out of the very nature of her bohemian blood. This man who had stripped away her freedom in exchange for her people's. This man who tried so hard to get her to love him. Every bone in her body wanted her to spit in his face and slam the door behind him. But then...she thought of what he had _not_  done so far. He had _not_ violated her in any way like she had assumed he would save for when he simply was trying and failing to comfort her. He had _not_  truly forced her to stay, for she was certain he knew she had the option to run away when he had given her that chance. And he had _not_...given up on her happiness. The issue of the baptism had not been brought up, nor had the issue of the wedding. This past week had been filled with simple implorings of her to share her troubles and a flower laid on her bench every morning with the intent of making her smile.

This very same man...was offering her a goat.

Her eyes wandered over to the creature before returning to the judge. His own eyes were tired but eager. He was waiting for her response, obviously hoping for a positive reaction but still prepared for the opposite. They both knew she may never care for him as he did her. They both knew she was bigger than this castle, that she needed to have her independence to truly be happy. And yet, he knew he couldn't give that to her. So he gave her what he could. And that was a little billygoat, young, eager, and trainable.

Esmeralda looked back to the mother bird, her eyes closed as a gust of wind ruffled through her feathers and shook the branch slightly. Perhaps she was praying for her little ones...

"...Daca."

Frollo rose a brow. He was used to hearing her mumble Romani words under her breath but he wasn't sure what she was meaning at this point. "Sorry?"

She glanced to him calmly. "His name will be Daca."

Relief flowed through the minister, and he let out an exhausted sigh as he motioned the servant to release the goat into the room and leave them. Once it was free, it meandered further in, sniffing around at the floor and wondering why there was no grass. The gypsy stood and joined its side, bending down to stroke his head lovingly, and Frollo couldn't help but ask, "What does it mean? Daca?"

Esmeralda looked back up to this...odd...odd man. Then back down to her new friend.

"If."

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you're enjoying it so far! I know, I know. Not much fluff and not a lot of sexual tension, but we will get there hopefully. I will admit that this isn't my best work, and so far I am just writing on a whim and an unsteady idea. Hopefully, I can get this into a short story that ties up nicely. If not, I'm so sorry. I know how annoying that can be. Any way, happy reading!


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